


Mon Ange

by tsukist



Category: Tokyo Ghoul
Genre: Angst, Boy's Love, Dead Kaneki, Dream Sex, Gay, Implied Death, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, One Shot, One-Sided Relationship, Short One Shot, Tragedy, Yaoi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-20
Updated: 2016-08-20
Packaged: 2018-08-09 17:10:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7810300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tsukist/pseuds/tsukist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tsukiyama has sexual dreams about Kaneki, who is dead.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mon Ange

I often find myself thinking of him as I am on the brink of falling into slumber, somehow hanging onto the very edge of my consciousness despite the irresistible temptations of sleep. My hands would be better put to use if he was still by my side, but I must use all of my strength to hold on to my thoughts, even if they are fleeting and unrealistic. 

When I cannot hold on anymore; to the image of him that I have so desperately cultivated, or even my own unspeakable thoughts, I slowly sink into the abyss of my dreams. I always see him there; as if, each night, he waits for me to finally succumb to sleep. 

Each night he meets me in my own bed, naked and sprawled out beneath me, a delightful pink dusting his pale cheeks and nose. I too am always completely stripped of my clothing, left exposed to his curious eyes and wandering hands.

I clearly recall the first time we became one, and I crave that feeling every night. I still hear his moans and innocent cries, and I can almost feel his fingernails digging into my back. I remember how he orgasmed so suddenly, as if the tension in his body was accepting me in that very moment. Knowing that I am the man who caused such pleasure is unexplainably satisfying. 

Of course, the night cannot last forever, although I often wish it would. His spent, delectable body collapses beneath mine, and I hold him in my arms one final time. He whispers my name, but not a single word of goodbye. I shall see him again, even if we are confined by that of my dreams.

I occasionally wonder if my mind is simply taunting me, for I always wake from these euphoric dreams to the painful realization that nothing has changed. He will never come back to me.

I can only ever look forward to my dreams, no matter how tragic they are. I can only hope that one night, as I lay awake and slowly slip from consciousness, I will not wake the next day. I will be released from the never-ending cycle that my life has become, and be reunited with my angel, wherever he may be.


End file.
